comfort and the ideal
by lotus head
Summary: Uh. I hate this, personally. TezuFuji future fic, ubermild T.


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disclaimer

I no own. I own dryer lint, candy wrappers, and teh computer. I don't even own teh Fruits Basket anime. I only own... a Fuji keychain.

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warnings

umm... gayness? And the general suckiness my fics tend to have.

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**comfort and the ideal**

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Years later, past the time of petty jealousy and sibling rivalry, Yuuta would be perfectly happy to talk to Fuji in the apartment his Aniki shared with Tezuka.

_Is he treating you right, Aniki?,_ he would ask, only concern reflected in his gray eyes,

_Yes. Still,_ is what he would reply. Because he was treated right, he was cherished, and any harm that came to him was of his own doing, or others, but never Tezuka's

It was hard, for two twenty-something homosexual Japanese men, because these sorts of things were frowned upon and _simply improper. _This would always make Fuji laugh- these people couldn't think for themselves, acting like sheep following the _classic ideals. _

_Marriage is for a man and a woman. _Love is love, he would say.

They were spared from much of the troubles that would often enter their sort of life- but they were spared from the prejudice, the hate crimes, but not the looks that so obviously said, _these two, they are different, they are inferior, _running like a banner behind their eyes. They were spared from the bosses that would say, _We're sorry, we have no more job openings, _when that was simply a ploy and cover up to say, _go away, we don't want you here. _

Tezuka was the vice-president of his father's company, and he no one was in the _position_ to discriminate him, not these co-workers of his father who he had known since he can remember.

And in Fuji's type of job, it was odd but not _unheard _of, after all, he was the _tensai_ photographer, and both geniuses and artists are known for _strange tastes. _It made him a novelty of sorts, to be gossiped about when the secretaries of his boss had their break. It was to be discussed in interviews, printed in a small corner of a magazine.

Over nearly a decade they slowly began to loose touch with all of the others that they were once so close with, carefree with nothing to worry about but _when are finals coming up, _and_ which school will we be playing next? _instead of the adult worries of _how are we going to pay the next bill, _and_ what will we do when your father finally dies? will you cherish his last wish and marry some girl?_

Once, they ran into Taka-san, buying groceries at the supermarket. He would wave to them, show them pictures of his _beautiful wife, and my two-year old daughter, isn't she adorable? _And Tezuka and Fuji would smile- or, at least, Fuji would smile, and they would nod their heads and commenting on his family. Fuji can imagine them all, sitting at the table, the plump, pretty and cheerful wife happily feeding the chubby daughter, who is reaching for the fork with fingers packed with baby fat, rice sticking to her chin, while Takamura beams proudly on the seat next to his wife. He sighs, because _this is the ideal, this is what we'll never have. _And Tezuka doesn't sigh, because he doesn't think like that, he thinks in facts, but not like Inui's facts, not mathematical, but in real life terms. That is what Tezuka is, _practical. _Fuji is not practical, he would float off the face of the earth is Tezuka wasn't there to hold him down. For this, Fuji is thankful, because he wouldn't notice that sort of _practical_ thing.

Sometimes, they like to watch Echizen on the television. He looks the same, has the same _wild, exhilarated, free _look he had when they were defeating middle schoolers, as when he is conquering the pros at Wimbledon. They always watch these silently, a word is never said, not because _this must be kept sacred, _but because they are both too busy thinking _this could have been me, if I had done this differently _to speakFuji, though, thinks it's rather both.

But they both think the same thing, chanted, over and over again, like a monk's prayer or a mantra. It is not a prayer, though, because it is already true, and they don't say it to convince themselves, because they _know _it's true. They live and breathe it, and it doesn't show on Tezuka's face and Fuji's face is still as it's always been, but it's in their _heads _as they think _I am happy here, I am content._

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by T.E.B.E.-sway- completed 1/18/07

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Umm... gee. I kind of killed myself putting this up. I did this quite a while ago, while I was experimenting. Looking at it now, I am finding so many things wrong with it.

REVIEW!


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